A Bohemian Sequel
by LOTR Sparkling Pippin
Summary: Our favorite bohemians are back, and better than ever. After Satine's death they decide on winning back the deeds to the Moulin Rouge with the help of a new arrival. R
1. Chapter One

(Note: I own nothing related to Moulin Rouge, all rights go to Baz Luhrmann and Fox. Don't sue me!)  
  
Yesterday, had possibly been the worst day in his life. Satine, a very dear friend of his had died just after the performance of a lifetime, and more importantly, just after being reunited with her true love. Her true love, Christian, was now absolutely insane. The man had held Satine in his arms as she died, just after the curtain closed on Spectacular, Spectacular.  
  
Toulouse downed another glass of absinthe, staring numbly out the window. Even in his drunken state, the information had sunk in. So he drowned his sorrows in absinthe, hoping the Green Fairy may take his troubles away.  
  
Just below his room he could hear the heart-wrenching sobs of Christian. To his left he was aware of Satie staring at the piano keys. To his right were The Doctor, passed out on the floor, and the Argentinean, blissfully asleep.  
  
He could only think how it was his fault. All his fault. He felt incredibly guilty, and all the absinthe in the world could not change that feeling. Toulouse had brought Christian into this world. Satie had even voiced his opinion it may not be the best idea. But no, he had to push it. The little dwarf began to cry again, and buried his face into the cloth of his shirt.  
  
"Where am I?" The rough and demanding voice of the Argentinean announced his awakening. He saw his small friend in tears, and yesterday's events came flooding back to them. He climbed onto the bed next to Toulouse, and put one arm around his little friend. No one liked to see Toulouse sad. Toulouse and sadness were not usually things that you associated with.  
  
"Toulouse. It is not your fault. Go to sleep and don't think of it anymore." The Argentinean coaxed, and suddenly Toulouse's face resurfaced.  
  
"It's all my fault! If I had never taken Christian to the Moulin Rouge, never introduced him to Satine, they wouldn't have been in love! And this wouldn't have ended so badly." He managed to choke out.  
  
"Yes, but then Satine would have never known love at all. And that's even more terrible." The Argentinean reasoned. A faint smile bloomed on Toulouse's dismal face. He'd never thought of it that way. His friend would have died without love. A fate far worse.  
  
"But what about Christian?" Toulouse suddenly asked, tears of worry springing back into his eyes. The Argentinean was silent, and eventually he shrugged. Christian was still alive. And he felt the pain of losing love, and there was not much you could do about that. They both realized it, and again Toulouse began to worry.  
  
"All my fault. All my fault." He muttered, staring out the window. Even the windmills bright lights seemed unusually dim. The windmills movement seemed slower. The whole world seemed to be mourning for Satine and Christian.  
  
"Toulouse. It's not your fault." Satie spoke up from his seat on the piano bench. He was usually quiet. And as he was, he listened better than others, heard more than others, knew more than others.  
  
"It's Zidlers." Satie said bitterly, refusing to meet his two friends gaze. Toulouse remembered figuring out what had been going on that night. Apparently Satie had too. But Toulouse still argued.  
  
"I brought him there! I told him to meet Satine! If I'd never done that, then Zidler would have never even gotten the chance to make Satine lie to him." Toulouse cried, fresh tears springing into his eyes.  
  
"Toulouse. It's not your fault." Christian's voice said. Toulouse turned to look at Christian, who stood in the door, tears still running down his face. The room lapsed into silence once more.  
  
"It's no ones fault. Don't blame yourselves." He said softly, turning and leaving.  
  
Christian made one other stop. The Moulin Rouge. He'd heard Toulouse upstairs, and even in his misery he realized he loved his friends, too. He could not bare to see them suffer, and he would comfort them all before the day was done. And he did. He saw each of the girls, he saw Marie, and he saw Zidler.  
  
For months he was not seen. The boho's and the girls grew worried. True, the Moulin had shut down. But most of the diamond dogs knew nothing else than that life, and found shelter with the Bohemian artists. Toulouse's apartment was a popular home to many, and at one time, at least three or more of the ex-Moulin Rouge workers could be found there.  
  
A year went by. The anniversary of Satine's death. No one had seen Christian since the day after Satine had died. But today, Toulouse decided someone must visit him. He knocked lightly on the door, and heard no reply. Toulouse turned the knob and pushed the door open slightly.  
  
"Go away." He heard a raspy voice command. In a sudden flash, Toulouse remembered Christian's anger when he'd told him Satine had loved him. He wanted to run, hide back upstairs. But he had to know what had become of Christian.  
  
"Christian?" Toulouse asked softly, stepping into the room. Christian's eyes fixed onto the dwarf, at first in anger. But seconds later, he could only think how much he'd missed his friend.  
  
"Come here." Christian said, beckoning Toulouse forward. A smile lit up his face, using muscles he'd left unused for a long while. Toulouse shuffled forward, gazing curiously at the wall of papers. Christian pushed a stack of papers at Toulouse.  
  
"Read." He commanded. Toulouse sat down on the bed, and began to read Christian's story. Occasionally he would burst into laughter, and every so often he began to cry. Throughout the whole story, Toulouse hadn't drunk a single gulp from his bottle of absinthe.  
  
"I miss her." Toulouse said, looking up with tears in his eyes. He was finished, and pushed the story back at Christian.  
  
"So do I." Christian replied, struggling not to cry.  
  
"We miss you, too, Christian. You can't stay here forever." Toulouse then said, remembering why he'd come here in the first place.  
  
"I know!" Christian replied with a small laugh. The laugh surprised him, but he continued. "I was just finishing my book. Judging by the fullness of your bottle, I think it was a success."  
  
Toulouse smiled, and grabbed Christian's hand. Not wasting one more minute, he dragged Christian up the stairs and to his room. There was a party. Nothing special, just a party. Everyone was glad to see Christian. After a few rounds of absinthe, they had the Argentinean read Christian's new book.  
  
The group sat patiently, listening to his amazing story that they all knew so well. Perhaps the biggest surprise was when Nini began to cry. During Christian's recollection of the tango, she burst into tears. Through muffled sobs she said she missed Satine a lot, and wished she had never been so cruel. For many of the other girls present, this made them cry as well.  
  
"The end." The Argentinean announced the book's reading complete. Afterwards, as the party started up again, Toulouse went over to Christian.  
  
"Will you publish it?" He asked, his dark eyes wide and inquiring. Christian had been quiet mostly, not talking to too many people. Toulouse seemed to have an incredible effect on people though, that made them just want to tell Toulouse everything.  
  
"Yes. In the morning." Christian replied, looking down at his friend.  
  
"I'm coming with you!" Toulouse announced before rejoining the party, and leaving Christian to his thoughts.  
  
(Please review! If no one likes this story, I'll just move on. If you want more, I'll gladly write, but I just need reviews to know if I should maybe change something. I'm an addict!) 


	2. Chapter Two

The soft pitter-patter of raindrops announced a soft morning rain. Christian sat up in bed; a blanket pulled up around him. All last night he could only think of Satine watching him. Had he disappointed her by forgetting her so soon? Or was she pleased he'd finally talked to his friends?  
  
Vivid imaginations were sometimes a curse. Once last night he imagined Satine with him, as she was before she died. Twice, he'd been visited by her, as she would be now. A rotting corpse. Her beautiful skin was a disgusting pale green color, and fell off in chunks. A skeleton like figure just peeked out of the pile of rotted flesh, haunting him with cruel words.  
  
Needless to say, he had not slept very well. But as he heard soft footsteps on the boards above his head he realized Toulouse must be awake. Toulouse had offered to go with him to try and get it published, and apparently he meant it. Christian composed himself and got his papers all together.  
  
Meanwhile, upstairs Toulouse had just woken up. He had nightmares last night. He always did, and they didn't bother him all that much, usually. Last night he had one about his friends, and Satine. Mainly Christian and Satine, and it was one of the creepier ones. He shuddered as he wrapped a small jacket around himself.  
  
No need thinking about dreams. Dreams are the children of an idle brain. Toulouse checked to see Satie was all right, because he had had an unusually large amount to drink last night. Then he left the room, shutting the door lightly behind him.  
  
"Ah! Christian! Wonderful to see you again!" Toulouse exclaimed at the sight of Christian just leaving his room. He knew Christian had not slept well, and he knew he had been thinking of Satine. It showed in his eyes.  
  
"Hello Toulouse." Christian greeted him with another smile. The third or so in two days. He thought it must be some kind of record. Toulouse's inquisitive look always amused him, especially when he pretended not to notice half of what he saw. The writer in him noticed things just as Toulouse did, and he suspected that must be the painting side of Toulouse.  
  
"Sleep well?" Toulouse asked cheerfully as they passed the old landlady. Christian paused and shook his head. Why did Toulouse do that? He had no idea. He suspected no one really noticed Toulouse did this, and just took him for a very amusing, artistic, somewhat innocent, and somewhat naïve person. Which could not be further from the truth.  
  
"I kept thinking about Satine." He admitted; deciding it did not matter. Christian wanted to focus on Satine today. Everyday, really. His little friend would have to wait his turn. Toulouse just nodded, and they continued on their way to the most known of the publishing companies, just outside Montmarte.  
  
They were shown into a rather fancy office, and asked to wait as the man who decided whether a book was to be published or not, read their piece. Christian sat still staring intently around the room most of the time, and Toulouse fidgeted as he soon got bored with the room.  
  
"I finished." A heavy and rather tired voice announced. An elderly looking man stepped into the room, holding Christian's book. He handed it back and sat behind his desk. He had light maple colored hair just beginning to turn white, penetrating emerald eyes, pale skin etched with lines of age, and a beard that would rival The Doctor's. He smiled at them, revealing yellowish teeth.  
  
"And I must say it was one of the most emotional books I have ever read. If you did live through that, I'd like to give you my condolences for whatever living hell you went through after that. By the way, my name is Jacob Tolkien." Jacob rattled off in his slightly wheezy voice.  
  
"You mean you'll publish it?" Toulouse exclaimed before Christian responded about the offered condolences, worrying it may not be what the man wanted to hear.  
  
"Yes! You're Christian, then?" He asked Toulouse, fixing him with a curious gaze.  
  
"No. I'm Toulouse, he's Christian." Toulouse corrected him, gesturing at Christian. Toulouse sat in silence, watching them both as they discussed things like money, and copies, and such.  
  
Half an hour later, the two were walking away from the place. Both of them were genuinely excited, and both thrilled the money was to be so good. Christian would receive 60 francs for each copy it sold. And judging by how good it was, Jacob had estimated that at least a few hundred copies would be bought. All they had to do was print copies first, but in a month the book would be out on shelves.  
  
"60 francs! Do you know how many glasses of good absinthe you can get with that?" Toulouse gushed, positively bouncing around in his excited state.  
  
"No idea. But absinthe does sound like a good thing right about now." Christian replied, still smiling. Definitely a record, he thought. It's been hours! He hardly dared to think he was over Satine. Because just as they passed the train station, little did he know his life would be changed forever.  
  
Just stepping off a train was a young woman. Wisps of tangled auburn hair fell to her shoulders, falling into her chocolate eyes. Long lashes and darkly tanned skin, as well as strawberry lips made her look attractive, innocent, and dangerous all at once. Which she was. A girl with a temper, a girl with a dream, and with Bohemian ideals about to be put to the test. Her name was Pearl.  
  
(Note: Just so you know their will be no romance with Christian. Satine and Christian are for forever!) 


	3. Chapter Three

Pearl quickly snatched up her single bag and walked off the platform. The sign reading "Montmarte" loomed over her head as she walked into the city. It was everything she'd imagined and more. The sounds, the smells, the tastes, the feel, the SIGHTS! They were so overwhelming.  
  
"Bar Absinthe." She read aloud, looking curiously at a building just down the street. She was thirsty, and something refreshing sounded rather good right about now. Pearl darted down the street, her auburn hair flying out behind her. Besides the fact she was running like a lunatic, she got many strange glances from the citizens of Montmarte. Unlike the usual new girl, she was not covered in layers of skirts. She was covered in no skirts at all. She wore pants made of a loose silk like fabric, and her shirt was a bright green with outlines of flowers on it.  
  
Skidding to a stop, she plopped into one of the outside seats, digging into her pocket for money. A waiter came over and placed a glass of green liquid on her table, and picked up some of her money that she had laid on the table. Her curious chocolate eyes were transfixed on the liquid.  
  
A new beer, she guessed, dyed green as some gimmick. And just to prove how tough she was, she downed the stuff in one gulp. After two seconds it was very clear this drink was not the usual stuff. The whole world seemed to swirl around her, and a few strange things happened all at once.  
  
Two people sat down at the table across from her. She noticed when she sat down that no one asked to sit with one another, and that she had grabbed the last empty table. She stared dumbly at the two sitting across from her, and they looked back at her.  
  
One of them was rather short. Pearl herself wasn't the tallest person, but he had to be at least a half foot smaller than her. He had short ebony hair, that seemed to attract the sunlight to it, as it was very shiny and glossy looking. The man was nice enough to look at, with a goatee of the same color that made his handsome bone structure stand out. But the most noticeable thing were his eyes. A dark brown color, and very wide and inquisitive, which reminded her of herself.  
  
The other one was much taller than her, and looked a bit more 'normal'. He was just as handsome, with dark brown hair that flopped down around his eyes. The tall man's eyes were a grayish green color, and they seemed infinitely sad. Pearl could only think he must have a depressing story to tell. A beard that looked a bit barbaric and a sad smile on pale lips were other clues that led to her conclusion.  
  
Christian and Toulouse stared at the girl sitting across from them. To Christian she seemed to be a peculiar looking young woman, obviously new. She was not strikingly beautiful, nor was she ugly. Just peculiar looking. Her large brown eyes and long black lashes were her most striking quality, other than the fact she was much tanner than most girls in Montmarte were. To Toulouse, she was very pretty. She reminded him of him, especially the eyes. He looked at the empty glass sitting next to her and elbowed Christian.  
  
"Ah. See the girl has been drinking!" Toulouse cried, startling the girl out of her drunken stupor.  
  
"Mine Pearl. Drank green stuff. New here. This pretty is very place." She commented, her usually loud and smooth voice was quite different. She stumbled over her words, and talked no more above a whisper.  
  
"Hello Pearl. I'm Christian." Christian replied, speaking slowly so she might understand. It seemed she did, and she nodded.  
  
"And I'm.." Toulouse was about to go into his very long and complicated name when he felt an elbow poking his side.  
  
"I'm Toulouse. Pleasure to meet you." The dwarf smiled, and Pearl smiled stupidly back.  
  
The three of them sat there quite a while, Pearl because she had no choice. And Christian and Toulouse because they did not want to see the girl passed out on the street tomorrow. In the meantime, the two bohemians each had a glass of absinthe.  
  
"I'm an actress." Pearl suddenly announced, her dark eyes a bit clearer, and her smile a bit more stable.  
  
"A Bohemian! I am a Bohemian, and I've come to Montmarte to act." She added. Toulouse and Christian both glanced uneasily at one another. They knew where this was leading.  
  
"I've come to apply for a job at the Moulin Rouge. Could you show me where it is?" Pearl concluded, glancing around for any sign of the red windmill. Simultaneously, Christian and Toulouse stood. Pearl followed their example, and listened to the story of how the Moulin Rouge was now closed.  
  
"But.but, can't you get it back? The theater? Buy the deeds?" She inquired, giving the two of them as sad a look as she could.  
  
"You'd have to see The Duke." Christian muttered bitterly, avoiding the girls pleading glances.  
  
"And you'd need the money." Toulouse added for him. Right now they were no poor. All the money went to absinthe, or to instruments of art.  
  
"Toulouse." Christian began, struck by a sudden idea, "My book! With the money it earns we could buy it back! We could buy the Moulin Rouge back!" He was grinning wildly at his friend, happy with his brilliant plan.  
  
"Do you think he'd give it to us?" Toulouse wondered aloud, and right then they both knew he wouldn't. He was greedy. He was cruel. He hated them, and he wouldn't do it for all the money in the world.  
  
"I'd do it." Pearl suggested, seeing the look the two were giving each other. Both of them lapsed into a thoughtful silence, and as they arrived at the bottom of the apartment buildings, Christian spoke.  
  
"I think. I think, it just might work." And for the first time in a year, he was truly, and genuinely happy. 


	4. Chapter Four

The three ascended the rather dusty stairs in the building. Seeing as Toulouse's apartment was the home to nearly every former Moulin Rouge dancer at one time or another, he'd offered for Pearl to live there a while. After all, they didn't have a pure actor in their list of Bohemians. A dancer, an artist, a pianist, a newly added singer, and a very strange sound and stage effects artist. An actress may prove to be a valuable asset.  
  
"My room." Christian announced, smiling at the both of them. The depression in his eyes seemed to have vanished at the thought of getting the Moulin Rouge back from that bastard duke. He swung the door open, and Pearl took a quick look inside. Nothing unexpected, she thought, as he stepped inside and closed the door.  
  
"We're one floor up." Toulouse informed her in a rather serious manner. As if that was a very important topic in today's discussion. Pearl smirked and ignored Toulouse inquiring of what was so amusing.  
  
"Oh, here we are." He announced as he threw open the door. Pearls eyes widened, and she dimly thought she'd never seen this much junk and clutter in a room her entire life. Bottles of absinthe, exotic clothes, half-finished paintings, paper with musical notes on them, and an endless supply of noisemakers haphazardly littered the floor.  
  
Besides that, there were four men just as interesting looking as Toulouse lying around the room.  
  
One was a tall and quite muscular black man. To Pearl, he seemed to have very kind and gentle dark eyes. But it also seemed he had become fit for a reason, and she guessed (correctly) that society had been quick to wrongly judge him. The man had tufts of dark raven hair on his head, and donned some rather spectacular clothing. A glimmering silver vest, a white shirt with splashes of paint on it, and emerald pants.  
  
Another man passed out on the bed beside him seemed a bit old. He had a remarkably long, graying beard that was longer on the two sides than it was in the middle, giving him a rather satanic look. The rest of his hair she could not see, for it was tucked under a rich purple and gold hat. His skin was slightly wrinkled, but the older man must have had something to keep him going if he kept up with this crowd.  
  
On the opposite side of the room, there was a dark looking man. He had dark hair, dark eyes, dark beard, and a dark tan. Pearl guessed he was Spanish, or perhaps Argentinean. He had quite a devilish look on his face, a broad smirk and a mischievous twinkle in his dark eyes. This man wore red suspenders over a red shirt, and black boots. As she continued to stare at him, she saw his eyes flutter shut, and watched as he crumpled to the floor.  
  
"Toulouse, check to see he didn't hurt his head." The last man said without looking up from the piano, which he sat at. Pearl turned to look at him, the last of the male occupants in the room. He was bald, she could tell, even if he did wear a strikingly Bohemian style brown hat. Swung around his neck was a multicolored scarf, and he wore the most colorful costume of all the guys in the room. He was also too engrossed in his work for her to get a good enough look at him, but she would see him later.  
  
Her attention then went to the two girls in the room, who by this point, were also looking at her.  
  
The first one sat beside the man who'd just passed out. She had very striking dark sapphire eyes, and short eyelashes that must've been done up to make them look darker. If layers of make-up had not been applied to her skin, Pearl assumed she would be pale, with a few wrinkles. From stress or age, she figured, or maybe even both. She was very slender, but that could have been from the corset under her golden dress with red windmills sewn across the bottom. Her raven hair was done up into a rather fancy bun, and Pearl wondered why anyone would waste so much time on appearances.  
  
The other was nestled comfortably in the big African mans lap. She had shimmery golden hair that flowed down to her back, and light blue eyes. The area around them had also been covered with make-up in order to make them seem big and innocent, but Pearl ignored such things and saw the girl was anything but innocent. Her willowy form was also wrapped up in a corset, and she wore a fleshy pink colored dress with white lace trimming the ends. She had a very bright rose color painted onto her lips, and Pearl thought it slightly resembled a clown.  
  
Toulouse who had been standing beside her, watching her look at all his friends pointed to them in the order she'd seen them and gave a quick summary of who they were.  
  
"Chocolat, he used to be a singer at the Moulin. The Doctor, who does special effects for plays. That's The Argentinean, a narcoleptic dancer. Satie, a very talented pianist. Nini, she used to be a performer at the Moulin. And Babydoll, also a former performer from the Moulin Rouge!" Toulouse speeded so quickly through the introductions, so Pearl had only concentrated on the names.  
  
"And this my friends, is Pearl. She just arrived here today, and is an actress." As he spoke, he waved a free hand at her and Pearl smiled softly.  
  
As Pearl went to put her belongings away (all the dressers were of course unused, as the rest of them just put everything on the floor) as Toulouse explained the Moulin Rouge situation. The thought of just maybe getting it back seemed to thrill everyone, even though no exact plan had been worked out yet. Toulouse had figured on discussing it with Pearl that afternoon, and the others agreed that was fine.  
  
So once Pearl had her clothes shoved into a couple drawers, she sat on the couch and waited for Toulouse to come over. After talking to his friends a while, he grabbed a bottle of absinthe and scuttled over.  
  
"Want any?" Toulouse asked before taking a sip. She shook her head, a bemused grin slowly creeping across her face. After that they discussed their plan. Toulouse had to fill her in on details, but come nine o'clock, they thought they had a finite plan.  
  
"All right. So we'll put posters everywhere in the city that say "AUDITION FOR PLAY AT MOULIN ROUGE, TOMORROW NIGHT! PLEASE ARRIVE BEFORE 5 TO BE ABLE TO AUDITION FOR A LEAD ROLE, OR ARRIVE AT 7 TO TAKE PART IN OTHER AREAS OF PRODUCTION". Which of course is a scam, because we have no play. But you say this Duke who owns it, will be outraged we're trying to do a play without his permission will burst into Zidlers office for an explanation. Except Zidler won't be there, and I will. From then on, I am to seduce him, until he agrees to give the deeds of the Moulin Rouge back to Harold as a token of his love. Right?" Pearl asked of Toulouse.  
  
"Exactly." He replied with a wide grin. Whether it was because of his excitement, or the absinthe, Pearl hadn't a clue.  
  
"Afterwards, can I tell him that everyone hates him, and it was all just a trick?" Pearl asked mischievously. The girl was nice to anyone she liked, but if someone she disliked annoyed her, she didn't usually bother to mask those emotions. Better if you just tell them they're the scum of the earth, the lowest of the low, the most vile, wretched, creature to ever walk the face of the earth.  
  
"No!" Toulouse exclaimed, snapping out of his drunken stupor, shaking his head forcefully.  
  
"Don't do that! The Duke himself is probably to weak to do anything to you, but he has a violent temper, and a very scary servant." He said, shivering at the memory of Warner. Very scary fellow, he thought to himself.  
  
"A 'scary' servant? Oh no.whatever will I do?" Pearl teased, putting a hand up to her mouth and dramatically gasping in horror.  
  
"Pearl, it's not funny. Please promise me you won't do anything to upset the Duke!" Toulouse implored, staring straight into her eyes.  
  
Geez, Pearl thought, he really is worried about me. She could not help but smile, and she nodded.  
  
"Okay. I promise not to upset the man." She replied gently.  
  
After that, the talk broke into different things. Each other's past, their favorite things, family, friends, money, and at one point, a discussion on why Frank was a stupid name. Sometime around midnight, they fell asleep on the couch. In the course of the night, Pearl managed to fall into Toulouse's lap without either of them waking. 


	5. Chapter Five

Yawning and blinking the sleep from his eyes, Toulouse was the first to awake. Seeing Pearl stretched out across his lap, his eyes widened, and his heartbeat sped up. Toulouse was not exactly used to having people sleeping on him, much less pretty girls sleeping on him. Somehow he managed to get up without waking her, and he left to tell his plan to Zidler.  
  
"WHO ARE YOU?" A gravely voice demanded. Pearl woke up, but she didn't open her eyes. A pair of strong hands suddenly grabbed her shoulders and sat her up, and then shook her. The voice repeated it's question about five times louder, and Pearl opened her eyes.  
  
She was greeted by the sight of the narcoleptic Argentinean who'd slept through her introduction. Still yawning, she did not yet have the energy to tell him. And him shaking her wasn't helping either. So on instinct, she kicked her left foot out and hit him square in his 'talent'. He stopped shaking her, groaned, and toppled over onto the floor.  
  
Yawning and stretching, Pearl stood up and stepped over him without a word. The man had annoyed her, so she would not treat him kindly for a while.  
  
She went over to Satie, who'd ignored the whole thing. Pearl sat there staring at him a full five minutes without him noticing, and she had to laugh. That did distract him though, and he turned to look at her.  
  
"Pearl, right?" He asked in a soft musical voice. Pearl nodded strands of tangled auburn hair falling into her eyes. Satisfied with her silent answer, he went back to the piano.  
  
"So you are Pearl?" The narcoleptic asked from behind her.  
  
"Yes. I met Toulouse yesterday and he offered me a spot here." She explained lightly, trying to avoid the Argentineans rather stifling gaze.  
  
"Was there a reason you kicked me?" He asked with a trace of amusement in his voice. Pearl grinned sheepishly and nodded.  
  
"You were shaking me, and I couldn't talk until you stopped shaking me, so I had to stop you somehow." Pearl replied, still avoiding his gaze in case he was still angry.  
  
"Fine then. Just, next time, please kick my stomach or something." He asked, the hint of amusement in his voice growing. Pearl nodded, and looked him in the eyes before scuttling off to get something to eat.  
  
That day, Harold called everyone to a meeting in the garden of the Moulin. All were in attendance except for Marie, Pearl, and Christian. Marie was missing because she noted that at her current state, Pearl would not impress the Duke. So she'd dragged her off to clean her, and get her dressed up. Christian was not there for obvious reasons, although he did watch the meeting through his window.  
  
Zidlers booming voice carried up to where he stood, so he heard all about the plan. Just thinking about plays and the dance hall brought back too many memories. Satine, the play, and just really Satine in general.  
  
"Come what may.." Christian whispered aloud. He wasn't sure if it was just his thoughts becoming so vivid her heard them, but he was nearly positive her heard a replying, "I will love you.."  
  
"Until my dying day." He finished in a breathy singing voice. Even if it only was his imagination, he was comforted by the thought of Satine still singing with him. Snapping out of his daydream, he went back to listening to the plan. It would seem foolproof if only it did not remind him of Satine.  
  
Upstairs Christian could hear Marie and Pearl. He had a strong desire to go and tell Pearl not to do it. The job was too dangerous. Satine had been in danger when she'd done the same thing, and was only saved by Chocolat's quick actions. But he did not want to ruin this. He thought his beloved Satine could rest easier if she knew the Moulin Rouge was not being run by the Duke.  
  
Besides that, Pearl was stronger. Admitting that Satine had been weak physically and emotionally, that may have made things easier for the Duke. Pearl had no one that she loved to worry about, and although she was small, he'd heard from the Argentinean that she was quite forceful.  
  
Comforting himself all would go well, he watched as the group in the garden began to make the posters that would be hung around Montmarte and Paris. The only downfall would be the masses of people coming to audition for a non-existent show.  
  
In Toulouse's studio, Pearl was feeling very clean. Under Marie's insistence, she had taken three showers. She'd used nearly seven different kinds of soaps, and about five or so different shampoos. Now Marie was fixing up her hair and making random comments.  
  
"Will we be done soon?" Pearl whined, rolling her eyes. She hated to be dressed up, but for this purpose she knew she must be.  
  
"No, dear! Honestly, how can you have taken such poor care of your hair?" She fussed. Pearl just sighed and closed her eyes. There were no mirrors around, and Pearl was glad. She did not want to see how she looked.  
  
Minute's later Marie finished with her hair. Then she walked around her, taking measurements. Marie stared into Pearl's dark chocolate eyes and began to mutter about what would go well with her hair and eyes. Pearl suggested red, but Marie scoffed at the idea. Marie went into the suitcase of clothes she'd brought with her and pulled out a black corset and a rather tiny emerald dress. The dress had red roses lining the bottom, and black lace around the edges.  
  
"Will it fit?" Pearl exclaimed, staring at the dress. Not only was it a DRESS (which she rarely wore) but it looked like it was going to squeeze her to death if she put it on.  
  
"Yes dearie it'll fit. Dresses are supposed to be tight. Now go put on the corset and I'll finish tying it." Marie replied, shoving the thing at her. Pearl stared at it, and wandered off to put it on. After quite a few tries she managed to get the corset on, and she went back to Marie feeling quite naked in such a tiny thing. Marie laced it up, cutting off a good bit of Pearls air.  
  
"A bit tight, isn't it?" Pearl asked in a breathy voice. Marie ignored her, seeing as it was only half tied. By the end of it, Pearl was not sure she could walk.  
  
"Never worn a corset, love?" Marie asked with a smile. All Pearl could do was nod as she looked down at herself. With all the air she had left, she gasped. Her body looked very alien to her right now. Her waist looked very tiny, and her breasts.well, they seemed to have grown.  
  
Without warning, Marie yanked the dress down over her. That at least, was not so tight now she wore the corset. In fact, it hung loose around her legs. The top part of the dress was fitted so it would show off her newly acquired cleavage. Squirming, she tried to pull the dresses fabric up to hide it. Marie saw.  
  
"No no no!" She chided, grabbing Pearls hand and putting it back at her side. Then Marie began adding accessories. A golden necklace strung with emeralds. Two ruby bracelets on each arm, and then she added a sparkling lime glitter to her nails before thrusting a pair of high-heeled black shoes at her.  
  
As Pearl struggled to stay standing in her shoes, Marie began applying make- up. The only item she recognized was lipstick, everything else looked like some tool of torture. Marie stepped back some time later and surveyed her work. A smile lit the old woman's face.  
  
"Darling, you look absolutely beautiful." Marie told her, smiling encouragement. Pearl was not used to looking beautiful, so Marie had to instruct her in some lady like behavior. As she taught Pearl the basics, they chatted about one another. Pearl was sad to hear Marie was not married and had no children, and felt that needed fixed. But before she had a chance to bring it up, Marie began lessons on how to talk and what to say.  
  
Quite some time later, Marie felt they were done. She did not want to totally change the girl, because she had the feeling the Duke would be attracted to both Pearls innocence and aggressiveness. Marie led Pearl downstairs and over to the Moulin Rouge.  
  
Pearl could not help but gape at it as she walked inside. Walking without much grace, as she worried about falling, she stepped into the garden. The chatter died down instantly, and soon every pair of eye was on her. She stared at the elephant, as everyone else stared at her.  
  
Toulouse's mouth hung open as he looked at her. Earlier she'd been a very tough looking young lady, but now. Her dull and tangled hair was now shimmering in the light, done up in a very elegant style so it just hung lightly behind her just brushing against her slender neck. Pearls eyes seemed wider with the make-up, and her lashes were infinitely darker. Her skin looked a bit lighter and her cheeks a bit pinker. With the shoes, she was a lot taller. And with the corset, she was a tad bit more slender. And with the dress she looked very elegant. Even with all that, she managed to appear tougher and bolder than all the other girls did. And the dark times that were reflected in the others eyes, had not yet clouded hers.  
  
From his window, Christian could see Pearl very well. She looked quite beautiful, and he did not doubt that the Duke would be delighted. Which was a very sickening thought indeed.  
  
He watched as activity returned to normal, and groups set out to post the signs. As darkness overtook the garden, the last thing he saw before falling asleep was Toulouse walking Pearl home. 


	6. Chapter Six

"God, do I really look that bad?" Pearl asked Toulouse as the others filtered out of the garden, casting sideways glances at her.  
  
"No, you look absolutely radiant!" Toulouse replied, smiling warmly at her. He finished with his stack of posters just seconds later. After shoving them into Zidler's lap, he announced he was taking Pearl home.  
  
"Very well, she needs her beauty sleep! Don't you, my little robin?" Zidler said. Pearl just made a noncommittal noise and smiled at him. Toulouse grabbed her hand and walked her out of the garden. Still wobbly in the high heels, Toulouse guided Pearl so she wouldn't fall.  
  
"Ugh, I hate this dress." Pearl muttered as they slowly climbed the stairs. When she came down with Marie dragging her she could not count the amount of times she stumbled, or how many times she thought she might fall. But with Toulouse guiding her slowly upwards, she had maintained a perfect balance so far.  
  
"You look beautiful in it, if that's any comfort." Toulouse offered, holding her steady as they awkwardly ascended the stairs.  
  
"It's not, but thanks anyway, Toulouse." She replied, blushing slightly from the compliment. She was not used to such treatment, but she was well aware in acting she'd have to go through the process sometime.  
  
Finally reaching the apartment door, they stumbled in. The Argentinean, who'd been standing near the door, backed quickly away when he saw Pearl. Satie even managed to look up from his piano and smile at her before continuing his work. Plopping down onto the sofa again, Chocolat, Toulouse, and The Doctor all came over with food and absinthe.  
  
The four of them ate, drank, and talked a good while until Chocolat mentioned Pearl's mission tomorrow. She whined it was much too early for sleep, and he relented. An hour later, she passed out from one glass of absinthe too many.  
  
"If she wakes up, she won't go back to sleep." The Doctor pointed out, and fearful of waking her, they sat and talked in whispers the rest of the night. Eventually they too all fell asleep.  
  
"Zidler, see how darling they look." Marie commented as they crept into the studio to get them assembled. Pearl lay stretched out on Chocolat and Toulouse, Toulouse's head rested on Chocolat's shoulder, and Chocolat was resting on The Doctor who had the most precarious position of all.  
  
"WAKE UP!' Harold screamed, and they all jumped.  
  
"Ouch! Chocolat, that's my leg! Toulouse, my ARM!" Pearl complained, squirming to get up. Harold quickly grabbed her arm and yanked her off the couch.  
  
"Get your shoes on pumpkin, we must hurry!" Harold explained, thrusting the high heels in her face. As she struggled to get them on, Marie brushed and re-styled her hair, as well as reapplied make-up.  
  
"Okay, ready to go." Marie announced again snatching Pearl's arm and dragging her down the stairs. Harold and the Boho's followed behind them, the Argentinean stopping for a moment at Christians floor. Christian declined the offer to come with them, and went back to watching the window. The eight of them appeared on the street after a quick minute, and they hurried into the main building.  
  
Pearl did not have much time to stare and gape at the old and beautiful theater, seeing as Marie kept yanking her whenever she slowed.  
  
"This is Harold's office. If we know the Duke, he'll barge right in here. The rest is up to you, love." Marie explained, quickly hugging her and leaving. Zidler followed, leaving her with the Bohemians. A chorus of 'Good-luck', and five hugs later, she prepared for the encounter with the Duke.  
  
Time slowly passed by, and she could hear as a few eager actors were turned away from the hoax play. Not too long after the first auditioners, she heard an angry yell. Which turned into quick and heavy footsteps that grew louder as they approached her. Pearl barely had time to check herself before the door swung open.  
  
She stared at the barrel of a gun, and her chocolate eyes widened in surprise. The firearm slowly lowered, and a grotesque looking man stood before her. He had floppy straw colored hair, greedy blue eyes, a funny looking mustache, and a rodent like face. The man who many had described as a somewhat skinny wimp did not look that way now. To Pearl, he seemed quite strong, and she had a horrible suspicion he'd changed sense they'd last seen him.  
  
Behind him was a bald, quiet man. At first she thought of Satie, but she saw none of Satie's musical brilliance or kindness in his eyes, she could only see a desire to hurt, kill, or maul vexing creatures. If the first man seemed in anyway strong, the second was twice as bad. And to make things worse, they both seemed to have guns. Wonderful.  
  
The Duke stared at the beauty before him, shocked into a sudden silence. She could have been any of the other girls, only there were differences. This girl was smaller, she seemed more feisty, appeared more innocent, was definitely younger, and looked much classier.  
  
"Where's Zidler?" The Duke asked in his annoyingly high-pitched, nasal voice. Pearl resisted the urge to laugh at him, or slap him for the pain he'd caused the others. She simply smiled seductively, her dark eyes twinkling.  
  
"He stepped out. Anything I could help you with?" She purred, stepping closer to him. The look in his eyes implied he had a few things in mind she could help him with, but he restrained from speaking them.  
  
"Well, yes. You are putting on a play, without my permission. And without my permission, it is not legal. You see I own this place, and any that work here. I am the head boss." He explained, his chest swelling with pride.  
  
"Oh. I see. Zidler had mentioned he didn't think you'd mind. But if you'd like it shut-down I'll see to that immediately." Pearl replied in a sultry voice, placing one hand gingerly on his shoulder.  
  
"Do you work here?" He quite suddenly blurted out, losing what small bit of composure he had. Pearl simply nodded, and widened her eyes. She watched as he considered this, but before he had time to ask anything else, Harold appeared behind him.  
  
"My dear Duke! You came to see the audition!" Harold exclaimed, smiling broadly. The Duke quickly whipped around, facing Zidler.  
  
"Zidler, I said to you NEVER to use this place again! You have no say of what you're stupid whores and pimps do because you broke the contract and I OWN YOU! ALL OF YOU!" The Duke threatened, although in his rather squeaky sounding voice, it was not very menacing. To add effect, he grabbed Pearl and Harold's arm.  
  
"I own you! Do not cross me, I can have every jail cell in Paris filled with you, and you know I can!" He screeched, shaking them like they were misbehaving. Pearl glared at him and wriggled free, and Harold stepped lightly back.  
  
"We thought you'd like having another play here." Harold replied tentatively, a fake smile still lingering on his face. It was almost teasing, daring the Duke to do something drastic.  
  
"You were not to have anymore plays! That bastard writer of yours was not to do anything else to help this damn theater!" The Duke exclaimed, fire burning in his eyes. He hated Christian as much as Christian hated him.  
  
"He didn't." Harold replied idly.  
  
"Didn't what? Who?" The Duke asked coldly.  
  
"Christian didn't write the play. And you've all ready met our leading lady, I see." Zidler replied. He gave Pearl an encouraging smile as the Duke considered this.  
  
"In your office. Now." The Duke demanded, gesturing Harold in. He shut the door so Pearl and Warner could not come in.  
  
Pearl smiled hesitantly at Warner as the two men discussed whatever it was inside the office. Warner just narrowed his eyes menacingly, and she figured he was not a very talkative person.  
  
There was a window at the top of the door, and with her newly acquired heels, Pearl thought she might be able to peek inside. As she inched forward, she felt a prick on the back of her neck. She knew Warner was watching her, but she didn't really care. Standing on only her toes, she was just barely able to see. The Duke's back was to her, and he was waving some papers around in Zidlers face.  
  
"Uh-oh.." She muttered as Harold's glance met hers, and The Duke began to turn to see what he was looking at. She quickly went to kneel down, but because of the shoes, she began to fall.  
  
"You ought to be more careful, mademoiselle." Warner whispered huskily as he caught her around the waist. He pushed her up and she steadied her wavering body. Casting an uneasy look at Warner, she could not be sure if his words solely applied to her clumsiness, or if it was a warning to her curious nature.  
  
"Warner!" The Dukes hyena sounding voice yelled as he burst from the room. Zidler followed after him, giving Pearl a secret smile. Apparently it seemed to work.  
  
"Warner, get my things together." The Duke commanded, looking at Pearl. He smiled at her, revealing rather disgusting teeth. She smiled back at him, trying not to stare at the plaque all over his teeth.  
  
"What's your name?" He asked, trying to lower his voice an octave to sound manlier.  
  
"Pearl, my dear Duke, what is yours?" She replied with a false smile plastered onto her face.  
  
"I am Duke." He began but was interrupted by Warner appearing with all of the papers in a suitcase. The Duke waved at Pearl and left with the Duke.  
  
"What happened?" Pearl nearly shouted, facing Harold with bright eyes. His smile seemed to flicker, and she could tell something must have gone wrong.  
  
"He wants us to put on a play." Harold answered a bit sadly. Pearl stared, dumbfounded by that. Everyone had assured her he WOULDN'T want a play, but now he did and they had no script.  
  
"He wants you to star, and says that he will be back tomorrow for our first rehearsal. And he seemed to imply that you are not to date anyone or he'll have you thrown out, and that you should meet him in the Gothic Tower tonight." Harold tried to appear excited about at least part of the plan going right, but she could see how worried he was about the play. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Tonight she got to meet The Duke. It was not exciting or thrilling, and after seeing the man she felt repulsed by him. Oh well, she had promised after all. Zidler stayed behind at the Moulin to tell everyone else the news. Pearl had left to go to her room, and to get dressed. Marie had left quite a wardrobe for her to choose from.  
  
"Pearl. Pearl?" Christian's voice floated through a small crack in his partly open door. She could see one of his eyes peeking inquisitively at her, a small smile on his face.  
  
"How'd it go?" He asked gently. The Duke was not his favorite person, and any excuse to hate the man more was good by him. As she started to speak, he widened the crack in his door so she could come in.  
  
"Thanks." Pearl replied to his silent offer. Walking into his room, she glanced nervously around. Knowing very well that he did not often let people in his room, she tried to memorize as much of it as possible. Flopping onto a big couch, she started into the story.  
  
At some point, Christian came over and sat next to her with a glass of absinthe in his hand. Pearl never stopped her talking until the ending when she was aware Christian was staring wide-eyed at her. She wanted to ask what was wrong, but she thought she could see it in his eyes. Apprehension. Fear.  
  
"What?" She finally managed to ask as he stared mutely at her. Christian blushed and looked down.  
  
"Nothing.the plan sounds." He just trailed off and left Pearl to fill in the blank. He meant to say great, but he couldn't bring himself to.  
  
"Familiar." He finally choked out, a wave of memories hitting him hard. Vision blurring from the tears that appeared in his eyes, Christian managed to brace himself for all of Pearls questions. First she echoed what he'd said, and he figured then would be good to tell her about everything.  
  
"Satine was a dancer at the Moulin Rouge. THE dancer. Everyone adored her, but by chance we met one night. At first I thought she was strange. Beautiful, but she was very strange. And then I was singing, and she was dancing with me.and you could see it in her eyes that it was new to her. Love was not a concept she knew, and I gave it to her. And that bastard duke!" Christian suddenly stopped short as he watched Pearls eyes shoot up.  
  
"Sorry. The Duke, him, the evil one you met, demanded she was to be his by contract. Our love made him jealous and the idiot; he tried to.hurt Satine. Of course it didn't matter because she died anyway." Christian added bitterly, forgetting the point he was trying to make.  
  
"Anyway, you're not in love, so you won't have anything to be feeling guilty about. And I don't think he would do such a thing again. Pearl, Pearl, what's wrong?" Christian asked as he noticed tears in her eyes.  
  
"Christian. I think I love Toulouse." Pearl admitted softly and blushed deeply as she watched Christian's eyes light up.  
  
Christian's head began to spin (not literally, of course) at these words. Toulouse was loved! He needed to tell him right away! But then he realized he couldn't. The Duke had ruined it again! If he told Toulouse, Pearl would feel badly. She might accidentally slip in her performance and suffer Satine's fate. But if he didn't tell Toulouse he was breaking his rule.  
  
But then again.his breaking of the rule would get his darling back her Moulin Rouge. And he wanted that for Satine. He wanted it for himself. Toulouse and Pearl's dilemma would have to wait.  
  
Pearl saw Christian was deep in thought, and left to get dressed for her upcoming night with the man who would save the Moulin Rouge and the Boho's who needed it. Toulouse's excitement at getting back his precious theater made her giddy, and she didn't even mind the dress Marie left her.  
  
Dark blue satin, with red windmills embedded along the edges. Very nice, she thought to herself sarcastically. Some dark blue shoes and make- up that she didn't know how to apply lay on top of the dress.  
  
Minutes later she was ready when a light tapping at the door announced Toulouse's arrival. Pearl's heart jumped and she wondered if Christian had told him. Or if he said she had something to tell him. Or if Toulouse's ability to see people better than they could see themselves had been in effect.  
  
She had to tell him. She knew it was love. The man was not amazingly handsome, but every other quality was what she wanted. And he knew her better than anyone had her whole life. He has this quality around him, and she was sure this was love. Everything was better when he was around, anyway, so it couldn't hurt.  
  
A black top hat peeked in and Pearl rushed forward to hug Toulouse  
  
"Toulouse, I love you!" She announced, when she realized she had hugged The Argentinean's legs. He gaped down at her, and she gaped up at him as Nini gaped at the two of them from the hall. A gapefest, Pearl managed to think as she slowly backed away.  
  
"What's this I hear about me?" An adorable lisping voice asked from the hall. Pearl felt her skin redden as Nini and The Argentinean relayed her message for him. Toulouse then came stumbling wide-eyed into the room. Pearl closed her eyes and dove at the little dwarf, hugging him tight.  
  
"Toulouse! I love you!" 


	8. Chapter Eight

Toulouse didn't seem to have the courage to ask her anything as she clung to his legs. He could not stop staring. Since when did beautiful actresses fall in love with him? It tended to be the other way around. Yet, her eyes seemed to be sending him the same message he'd often conveyed to others. Did she really love him?  
  
"Toulouse! I love you! I adore you! You are the single most perfect person on this Earth for me; please I'm not lying. I. Love. You." Pearl cried in exasperation. Usually he constantly talked, but now he was plagued by silence.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small hand with painted nails yank the staring Argentinean from the room. Pearl would have to thank Nini for that later.  
  
"Why?" Toulouse finally managed to ask, feeling quite flustered.  
  
"Because you're a talented painter, you believe in the Bohemian ideals, you have the most beautiful eyes, you can see people for what they are, you made me feel wanted, you give everyone hope, you make people laugh and smile, you are truly adorable and sweet.should I go on?" She teased lightly, seeing how red he was.  
  
"Yes." Toulouse replied with a smile. Never in his life had he felt so happy to be around someone. He'd ached for love his whole life, and he could not be sure this was it.  
  
"Well I won't. Your head will get too big." Pearl replied with a wide smile, before smothering him in kisses. And with a jolt, she realized she shouldn't. She was to see The Duke tonight.  
  
"Will mademoiselle Pearl join me for dinner tonight?" Toulouse asked, unaware of her all ready set dinner plans. Shaking her head she replied with a soft no. She saw him sadden and quickly explained about The Duke.  
  
"Zidler is sending you to a dinner with him?" Toulouse asked in disbelief, the same look Christian had had now in his eyes.  
  
"Yes. I heard the story about Satine, but don't worry. Nothing will happen!" She assured him, hugging him tightly. Something inside of her told her not to, seeing, as she couldn't as long as the Duke was around.  
  
"I have to go now." Pearl added in a reluctant voice and quickly bolted from the room. She worried that Toulouse may follow her so she went zooming down the stairs. The long trail of her skirt caught on a loose plank, and she accidentally stepped on it. Wavering uncertainly, she began to fall.  
  
"I told you to be careful." A deep voice told her. Two hands held her about an inch from the ground.  
  
"You should listen to people's advice." Warner added as he stood her up. Pearl could only manage to not scream and run away.  
  
"Pearl! You look lovely." The Duke's nasal voice said from behind Warner. He stepped around his servant, flashing her a disgusting smile. Wearing an exotic looking green suit and top hat, he reminded her of a frog. She wished he was a frog, and she could step on him. Squish! And take the deeds to the Moulin away from the squished frog, yes, that would be lovely. Except she might ruin her high-heels, but that was fine by her.  
  
"So do you my dear Duke." She replied with a purr in her voice and a smile on her lips.  
  
"Yes, well, I thought I would pick you up for the dinner tonight at the gothic tower. Zidler told you about it, correct?" The Duke asked, tapping his fingers at his side.  
  
"Yes. I have to say I was quite excited. Everyone has told me so much about you and I've been dying to meet you." Pearl replied. The Duke seemed to brighten at this, and again showed her his yellowing teeth in another smile.  
  
"What exactly did they say?" He asked coyly, with a ridiculous smirk on his face. Pearl wished she could tell him, but she had to lie. Maybe later she'd tell him they said he was a horrible singing, frog stomping, and unattractive, temperamental, evil man-whore. Maybe not.  
  
"Oh. The girls were just saying what the looker you were. They said you were very muscular, handsome, sweet, and very caring person. Some of them told me how you charmed that girl Satine." She replied, making sure to pour on the sugar. The Duke looked quite pleased with himself until he thought of Satine. He hadn't known she actually had liked him. How sweet of the naïve little thing, even if she was dead now.  
  
"Yes, well, they did leave out a few things." The Duke joked, chuckling aloud. Pearl also began laughing, but not for the same reason. Taking this as a good signal, the Duke extended his hand.  
  
"To the tower." He said, as Pearl reluctantly slid her hand into his. Involuntarily shuddering against his rough touch and sweaty palms, he mistook it for something else.  
  
"Yes my dear, we will have a great time all of tonight. The staff has taken care of tidying up the guest suite." The Duke said in a whispery voice. She wished to throw-up and wondered why Zidler hadn't told her this would be a sleepover. Sleeping in the tower would not be fun.  
  
"I can't wait." She returned in a sugarcoated voice.  
  
"Dear Duke, I must say this dinner was superb." Pearl complimented as the last of the waiters whisked away remaining plates. Although Pearl hated the Duke even more after their dinner conversation, she was determined as ever to get the deeds to the Moulin.  
  
"Yes, my chef can manage to cook quite well on occasion." The Duke replied. For him, he was more attracted to Pearl than he had been to Satine. With Satine it had been lust, but with this one, it was more. She was not as beautiful, but her overwhelming personality sparkled more than Satine's beauty ever had.  
  
Pearl gazed at him, and nearly recoiled when she saw this 'lovey- dovey' look take over his eyes. She knew he had fallen for her, and she knew he was now an expert on her past. At least the fake past she'd told him. Perhaps now would be the time to ask that question?  
  
"My dear duke, you know Zidler would really love it if you were to, perhaps, give back the deeds to the Moulin. You don't really need it anyhow, seeing as you're so rich. I'm sure it just eats up time that you could spend doing other things on." Pearl said, trying to put as much purr in her voice as possible. The words lingered on the air, like a bad smell, and she thought he wouldn't even reply.  
  
"Perhaps, yes, that would be a grand idea my dear Pearl." The Duke replied in a husky whisper that made him sound like a grizzly bear with a headcold. His mind was whirring as he recalled how quickly Satine had turned on him. But she was just a whore, after all, he thought. This one was much more.  
  
"I think it would make for a good discussion in the morning. But in the meantime, we could get some sleep." He added, still sounding like a sick grizzly bear. Tensing up, Pearl smiled at him and tried to convince herself that he would not do anything.  
  
The Duke led her to a large, rather drab, bed. Expecting him to leave and let her fall asleep, he slid right into bed. Disgusting, but not unexpected. Changing in a hiding spot behind a dresser, she slipped under the sheets next to him. His breath was a bizarre mixture of garlic, sweat, onion, cheese, and an afterthought of peppermint.  
  
Smiling as sweetly as she could, she closed her eyes and tried to sleep. For a half-hour his slightest movement sent her heart beating wildly, but he tried nothing. Soon they were both deep in dreams.  
  
The Dukes night time visions were of Pearl and him, together. Her looking elegant and radiant in a silk wedding gown, and him the very definition of handsome in a smart black tuxedo. In Pearl's sleep, she was haunted by nightmares. Visions of Zidler dragging her away from Toulouse and plopping her right in the Duke's lap. If she tried getting up, the Duke would stop her, and finally killed Toulouse so she'd behave.  
  
She jolted awake when the bullet struck Toulouse, and found the Dukes face an inch from hers. Uttering a soft cry of disgust she scooted away, mistakenly awakening the Duke. He awoke with a dreamy smile on his face, and soon they were back at the table eating breakfast.  
  
"My dear Pearl. I have thought of an answer to your request last night. You are quite right on all accounts, and I think I will give Zidler back his depressing old theater. Just one condition." He said, his voice being what the sick bear's would be after a few bottles of undiluted absinthe. The Duke's fingers quivered with excitement and tapped restlessly on the tabletop, Pearl noted.  
  
"Which is.?" Pearl asked in a whisper. Every part of her body was screaming at the Duke, demanding to know what the condition was, except her tongue. He smiled mischievously, which only made her disgusted, not the effect he'd wanted.  
  
"You come to live with me in the new America." 


End file.
